Major Buffer
by Nevada11
Summary: When Sharon Raydor and Andy Flynn attended his daughter's wedding. Things didn't go so well. Two chapters originally published at LJ.
1. Chapter 1

"Would you like to come in for some coffee?" Captain Sharon Raydor asked the question more out of politeness than any real desire for caffeine or company. It was very late. After 2 am. She was exhausted and her shoes were killing her feet. She also needed more ice for her eye. Being a buffer between Lieutenant Andy Flynn and his ex-wife was a bruising experience. Literally.

"Thanks. I really don't want to go back to my place right now. My sponsor is out of town and boy do I feel the need for alcohol." A dejected Andy followed her inside and immediately sat down on the sofa. "I'm sorry I got you involved. My life is a mess. Of course you knew that, but seeing it is different from just reading about in my I.A. jacket. By the way I appreciate you not pressing charges against Lynn."

Without acknowledging his statement, Sharon toed off her high heels and limped into the kitchen. She had been listening to a variation of the same from him since they'd left his daughter's wedding. The 45-minute drive back to her condo had been excruciatingly slow.

He continued. "Not that I wouldn't have loved seeing her arrested, but it would have ruined Nicole's honeymoon to know her mother was in jail. Bad enough the reception and then the dinner turned into brawls. I can't believe how many of the guests got involved. What's wrong with people?"

Turning on the already loaded coffee maker, she sighed. Leaning down and bracing herself on the cabinet, she stared at the slowly filling carafe. Nights like this were why she didn't date. Well, that and the fact she was still technically married to Jackson Raydor.

"$30,000 and I didn't even get a meal out of the thing. Do you think the caterers are going to bill me for the food that ended up on the floor? They're probably insured for stuff like that, don't you think?"

She didn't even bother to verbalize a response. He wasn't listening to her anyway.

"It wasn't enough that dumb shit took over my family, helped keep me from my kids all these years, he thought he was going to mess with my date? Idiot!"

"It wasn't a date!" The sound of her voice seemed loud even to her. She dialed it back a notch. "It wasn't a date. I was just there as your friend."

"Well, I didn't appreciate him putting his hands on my _friend's_ ass."

"Hand. It was one hand. And it might have been an accident. But you made your point, Andy. Not a soul at the wedding missed it."

"Go ahead and say it. You think I overreacted, don't you?"

She had been saying it for at least the last two hours. He just hadn't been listening. "You didn't have to react at all. I'm a big girl. I could have handled it without bloodshed."

"Who knew the guy was such a bleeder in addition to being a cheapskate and a letch! One hit, more of a tap really, and his nose erupted like a fountain."

"Andy!"

"I'm just saying, the guy couldn't take a punch."

"I don't want to discuss it any more. Do you want something to eat? Maybe some eggs?"

She waited. A couple of seconds passed before he answered.

"I could eat." There was another pause and he added, "I'm sorry about your dress. That was totally my fault. I'll pay for the dry cleaning."

Sighing at the reminder, she glanced at the large wine stain covering the right side of her emerald silk, sheath dress. Or at least she hoped it was just wine. The stain wasn't coming out either way. The dress was headed to the trash bin, not the dry cleaners. But he was right about one thing, the ruined dress was his fault. When he'd punched Harvey, besides the excess blood, the man's full wine glass had gone flying towards her.

Her head ached. Abandoning the coffee for the moment, she went to refrigerator and took an ice pack out of the freezer compartment. Holding it against the side of her face, she returned to the living room.

"How do you want your eggs?" She noticed that Andy had pulled off his tuxedo jacket and his tie was gone. He'd settled in for the duration. It appeared this evening was never going to end.

Andy winced as he got a good look at her face. "I can make us some French toast if you don't mind me in your kitchen."

"Knock yourself out." She kept her expression neutral, but she intended the pun.

He didn't seem to notice. As he walked past her into the kitchen, he started up again about his ex-wife's predictable reaction to the melee. "Lynn had the nerve to blame me, even though her idiot husband was the one with the wandering hands. He's the one that started it."

Sitting down in a chair, she listened to him open and close cabinet doors. She waited for him to rehash the entire event again. She was sure he would. For some reason he felt an intense desire to keep talking about it, picking it apart one messy scene at a time. She really didn't need to hear the details again. The images were burned in her memory.

"Do you think your glasses can be fixed?"

"No." The designer frames resembled a broken pretzel. She'd put them on after the wine spill and before the second round of fisticuffs at dinner. A mistake. The former Lynn Flynn (God, how had she stood that moniker?) had knocked them off her and they'd been stepped on in the ensuing free-for-all.

"I shouldn't have gone to the wedding. I knew it was a bad idea from the start. I told Provenza, but he just kept pushing me. 'Go, Andy. You'll regret it if you don't, Andy. You only get one shot at these things, Andy.' Yeah, well, where's that leave me now?"

She shifted the ice pack to her forehead. The aspirin that Nicole had given her earlier had worn off. "We've been through all this, Andy. What's done is done. The actual wedding ceremony was beautiful. Focus on that."

Stepping out of the kitchen, dish towel in his hands, he said, "It was, wasn't it. Nicole looked so happy when I walked her down the aisle." His expression darkened as he recalled the moments afterward. "I hardly noticed her creep stepfather until...the nerve of that idiot. I can't believe he put his hands on you. That arrogant son of—"

"Andy. Stop. I don't want to hear any more about it. I was perfectly capable of taking care of the situation discreetly. There was no need for you to throw a punch. You lucky he didn't decide to press charges against you. You know I basically cut a deal with him after Lynn attacked me."

"I'm sorry, okay? But he...The man's an idiot."

It was no use. She was just going to have to wait him out. Or divert his attention.

"Is something burning?"

"I don't think...No. Where's your vanilla?"

"Cabinet next to the stove."

* * *

The French toast was eaten. The coffee drunk. The kitchen cleaned. Her eye had swollen shut.

Andy was asleep sitting up, his chin resting on his chest.

She briefly considered waking him, sending him home. She didn't do it.

Turning off the lights, she decided not to chance waking him. He might just start apologizing all over again. She had no more patience left. He could finish the night on her couch.

She didn't look forward to tomorrow. Or the day after. He'd remember at some point that he never asked what caused Lynn to hit her. She had no intention of telling him the truth anytime soon.

Andy would have to deal with the fallout from the squad, they both would. Her black eye was going to keep the rumors flying, the questions going for days. She was going to have to figure out what lie to tell people. What lie to tell Andy.

This relationship was going to take time. And it was a relationship. She'd known that the instant she'd told Lynn it was time for her to stop pushing Andy's buttons just to see him blow up. That it was time for Lynn to let the past go. Time for Lynn to stop being a...Well she wasn't proud of her language. And she'd certainly paid a price for it.

Loving Andy Flynn wasn't going to be easy. She was sure of that.

Sharon picked up her discarded shoes and went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

"And then what happened?" Lieutenant Provenza set a cup of take-out coffee on Andy Flynn's desk.

"Thanks." Andy popped the top of the cup off and glanced inside. "No cream?"

"No! Man-up and drink it black. We're late."

"You don't drink your coffee black." Not that he wasn't grateful, but he would have appreciated it more with some creamer and a packet of sugar.

"If you'd been here on time you could have gotten your own damned coffee. I'm not your nursemaid." Provenza got to his feet, pushing his chair under the old metal desk he'd brought from the old building.

Andy shrugged, taking a sip. It was cold.

"Well, what happened next? After the waffles? I don't have all day – we need to get down to autopsy."

"It was French toast." He took another sip of the bitter brew, even cold the caffeine was clearing the haze from his mind. "Nothing happened. I fell asleep on her sofa. Next thing I knew my cell phone was ringing and you're telling me I'm late for work."

"The Captain wasn't there when I phoned?" Provenza chuckled. "Tao notified her about the case before I arrived at the scene. I didn't think to ask him where he found her."

"She didn't even leave me a note." Andy wondered just how bad her eye was. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he realized he had been pretty much a jerk for the whole evening. He owed her an apology, a new dress, a pair of glasses, and a fancy dinner without his family present. Problem was she probably wasn't even talking to him, much less in the mood to give him a second date. And it was a date, despite what she said, damn it.

As though reading his mind, Provenza joked, "Well it wasn't like you two had been on a real date and had a sleepover. She didn't owe you breakfast or a goodbye."

"Who asked your opinion!" Andy cleared his throat. "So you haven't seen her yet?"

Provenza shook his head. "Nope."

So there was still a chance...Andy took a deep breath. With any luck maybe she'd call in sick and he could avoid telling this story again to the rest of the team. "She might not-"

"Don't get your hopes up." Provenza chuckled, apparently reading his mind. "Morales said the Captain was joining us for the post mortem on our victim."

* * *

Both she and Morales looked up as they entered the room. The safety glasses she was wearing didn't hide the shiner.

She nodded to acknowledge their presence, but didn't say anything.

Without thinking Andy moved around the gurney to stand next to her, taking it as a good sign that she didn't immediately move away. He tried to concentrate on what Morales was saying about the victim, but he couldn't hear anything but his own thoughts.

"Does it hurt?" Andy whispered, dipping his head towards hers.

"Not now," Morales said, sticking a probe into the victim's chest. "Although I imagine it smarted at the time. It was the second shot that killed him."

Sharon gave him a sideways glance. He read it as, "not here, not now."

Morales continued his description of the wounds, Andy continued his contemplation of the situation.

As he saw it, he had two options. Pretend like nothing had changed between them. Or go for it. He was leaning towards the first option.

He ticked off the reasons in his mind:

1. She was his boss, there was probably a regulation against it and she'd know it, chapter and verse.

2. She was married. He made it a policy to almost never date married women.

3. Thanks to her former job, she knew every damn thing about him. There would be no hiding flaws or pretending to be better than he was.

4. Back to number one. All he had was his job, so why would he even consider screwing that up?

5. And finally, she probably had no interest seeing him outside of work and it would be really embarrassing when she turned him down.

"Lieutenant Flynn! Are you going to join us upstairs?"

He realized that Morales was gone and he was staring at the sheet covering the corpse. Sharon was standing at the door, holding it open for him. Provenza was leaning against the wall, not even trying to hide a smirk.

The situation had already affected his work. He had to do something. "Yeah. Sorry. I need to take a personal day."

He walked past both of them before they could respond. He took the back stairs and quickly left the building.

An hour later when the gas station attendant called him doctor, he noticed he was still wearing the blue disposable gown and booties.

* * *

The text messages from Provenza were relentless. Hell, Andy didn't know the old dog could type that fast. Rusty must have been teaching him new tricks. He'd barely deleted one before the next one showed up.

"Flynn, get your ass back to work."

"Flynn, don't be a coward."

"You better not be drinking, I'll use you for target practice."

The last one he couldn't resist answering. "Based on your last trip to the firing range, I don't have anything to worry about there."

"Where are you?"

"Taking a break."

"Taking a break where?"

"None of your business. Stop texting me."

"You're a fool, you know. You're ruining any chance you have with her."

"I don't know what you're taking about. Leave me alone."

"I didn't get this old without seeing what's right in front of me."

"Stay out of it, Louie! I mean it."

* * *

It was almost sunset. Stretched out on the over-sized lounge chair on the wooden deck, watching the tide, Andy's mind was finally calm. He'd used the hours since he'd left the morgue to mull over his life. After a lot of back and forth, he had a plan. He had some vacation days coming and then when he got back, he'd ask for a transfer back to Robbery Homicide. He'd stay busy, away from the high profile stuff, and he'd probably never see her. It would hurt, but he could do it. Problem solved.

* * *

"You broke into Chief Pope's beach house?"

He was losing his edge. She was only a few feet away and he hadn't heard her approach. If she'd been one of his enemies, he'd be dead.

"Captain. Hello. I didn't break in. I used a key." He noted she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, her feet bare. "No heels?"

She made a humming noise and motioned for him to move over.

Against his better judgment, he did. He needed to ask her for a transfer. But maybe he'd just enjoy the moment. Time enough to be miserable later.

She sat down next to him on the lounge. "Chief Pope gave you a key?"

"Sure. About ten years ago he hosted a barbecue here. Provenza and I were in charge of the beer kegs and soft drinks."

She smiled. "And you kept the key?"

"Of course not." He grinned. "We made a copy. Figured some time he might get locked out and need our help."

"Right."

"Seriously, he's been trying to sell it. I do him a favor and come down here once a month to check on the place. He lets me use it in exchange."

"Good to know I won't have to arrest you. I forgot to bring my handcuffs."

"A pity." He narrowed his eyes. "Hey, how did you know I was here?"

Sharon smiled. "You're using an LAPD cell phone. Next time you don't want to be found, take out the battery."

Repeating her phrase, he said, "Good to know."

She leaned back and shut her eyes. He had the opportunity to get a good look at her face, beautiful except for the bruising. "I'm really sorry about the wedding and everything that happened."

"It looks worse than it is, Andy," she said without opening her eyes. "How are you doing?"

"I look better than I am."

She started giggling and he fell a little bit more in love.

Time for a new plan.

The end.


End file.
